


don we now our gay apparel

by sightetsound



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Coming In Pants, Dry Humping, First Kiss, First Time, Getting Together, M/M, Virgin Billy Hargrove, mistletoe mishaps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 00:30:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17131613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sightetsound/pseuds/sightetsound
Summary: Steve knows Billy's secret, and at Carol's Christmas party, mistletoe, makeouts, and more occur.





	don we now our gay apparel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BillysHardgrove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BillysHardgrove/gifts).



> Happy holidays, BillysHardgrove! <3 I hope you enjoy these boys and their seasonably (in)appropriate naughtiness!

“Haven’t figured out how to dress yourself for winter, Hargrove?” Steve asked in lieu of a greeting as he peeled out of his various thick layers. He cut his eyes over to him while he hung his coat on the rack in the foyer of Carol’s parents’ house. 

Billy looked like he didn’t quite know what to say, and Steve relished the victory for what it was.

Tommy cackled and checked Steve’s shoulder with his good-naturedly, earning a smile.

“California Dream over here’s gotta show the girls what they’re missing out on, Steve.” Tommy teased, slugging Billy in his leather-clad arm. 

“Yeah, what’s that, huh? Frostbite?” Steve asked, dragging his eyes up and down Billy’s torso deliberately, slow, taking in his open leather jacket, and beneath that, a blue shirt that was unbuttoned to his navel. 

Like he didn’t know Tommy was talking about all that sun-kissed skin and defined muscle. 

Like he thought this show was for the _girls_. Like he didn’t realize it was a show at all. 

Steve raised his gaze to Billy’s and held it. When Billy’s stared momentarily as though he thought Steve was onto him, Steve smiled. _Yeah, asshole,_ Steve thought, _I got you._

Between them, Tommy was laughing, and Steve joined in – couldn’t not with how contagious the sound was. 

“It’s _fashion_ ,” Tommy insisted, his grin wide and toothy. With a put-upon Midwestern accent, he added, “Not that us bumpkins would know anything about that.” 

“Pretty boy manages alright.” Billy added in his usual tone, harsh and mocking.

Watching Billy falter when Steve smiled brightly at him and gave a, “Hey, thanks,” was worth the beating he took that night in November. 

Then an arm was thrown around his neck, and Steve was being led towards the living room where there would be alcohol aplenty. Wise to this particular trick in Tommy’s repertoire, Steve glanced up before they reached the doorframe and spied a leafy sprig pinned to the wood.

“Not this year, Tommy,” Steve protested amidst a laugh, going to duck out from beneath his arm. Tommy held fast, essentially maneuvering him into a headlock to keep him from escaping. “Hey, hey, watch the hair!”

“It’s tradition, Steve!” Tommy countered, laughing as he all but dragged Steve towards the doorway. “Just one kiss!” 

“You always say that, and then I end up with your tongue in my mouth!” 

Tommy proceeded to make kissy faces, so Steve leaned away and pushed at Tommy’s torso to keep him at bay.

“Just– _one_!” Tommy insisted, practically bending Steve back in the chase. 

Steve groaned and allowed himself to be kissed by his oldest friend, screwing his eyes shut when Tommy gracelessly smeared his lips over his. Grunted in protest when Tommy tried – and failed, thank you – to lick inside his mouth. Eventually, he managed to free himself from the loudly triumphant Tommy, stumbling back several steps, no doubt flushed from the exertion. 

“Dickhead,” Steve jabbed without venom while he adjusted his clothes and made sure that his hair fell as it should. 

“Come kiss me instead, Tommy.” Carol called from the door. Tommy happily complied.

Steve shook his head at the two when they began to get handsy, and glanced over his shoulder to spy Billy looking at him with something akin to surprise.

“What’s the matter, Hargrove, never seen two guys kiss before?” 

“No,” Billy replied a half-second too late, almost absently, but he seemed to remember himself quick, “No, not that. I’ve got–” Billy paused, shifting, “I know– people. Who are.” 

“Gay? It’s not a big deal. I mean, to some people, I guess, but.” Steve shrugged. “I don’t care.” 

“Obviously,” Billy remarked, still staring at Steve. 

“You coming or what?” Steve asked, cocking his head towards the living room with an easy smile. “Party’s not out here, Hargrove.” 

–

Carol’s Christmas party was, as always, packed to the brim. Some people in festive sweaters, like Steve and Tommy, and others in their normal, day-to-day wardrobe – even if it didn’t make sense for the season. 

All of the attendees, no matter their state of dress, had drinks in their hand. 

Tommy got progressively more giggly as the night went by, laughing at the surrounding banter and various party-goers who inevitably couldn’t hold their liquor but managed to make it to a bathroom or sink under Carol’s stern direction to not puke on the carpet. 

It was good. Steve felt good. Felt even better when he caught on to how Billy couldn’t quite flirt effectively when he was watching. 

Some girl would approach and offer Billy a drink, and he’d play it up with bedroom eyes as he leaned in to take a sip from whatever cup she was holding, holding her gaze while he did. Steve scoffed a laugh, shaking his head, but kept watching. Waiting.

As expected, Billy looked away from her and at him. In a blink-and-you-miss-it moment, he looked panicked, but then he painted on a smirk and wandered away from the girl without a word. 

“Don’t let me disturb your holiday festivities, O’ King of Hawkins High.” 

“Fuck ‘em.”

With those sage words and a wolfish smirk, Billy remained by Steve’s side. They wandered from room to room gradually, talking all the while. Steve was unsurprised that Billy could carry a conversation – had heard him speak up enough in English class to know the dude had thoughts on shit – but Billy? 

Billy would periodically look at him like he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.

It was – flattering, in a way Steve had never known before. He’d been chased before, of course, and done the chasing himself, but never by someone who seemed… earnest. Anxious, almost. 

So they drank, and they talked. About school, about people at the party, but Billy seemed most interested in one particular topic. 

“So,” Billy began, fixing him with an arched brow and a grin that earned the admiration of the entire Hawkins High female populace, “I know all about how you made up with our gracious hosts, how you used to run the school, and that you stopped caring because Wheeler _changed you_ or whatever, but… Who is King Steve _really_?”

Steve tested Billy’s interest by licking his lips clean after a sip. Billy watched, and a thrill went down Steve’s spine when Billy’s own lips parted just enough to betray him for the moment. 

He gave a shrug and kept walking slowly, just to see if Billy would follow. 

He did.

“What do you wanna know?”

Steve glanced sidelong at Billy opened his mouth to speak, but then—

“Hargrove and Harrington caught beneath the mistletoe!” Tommy proclaimed, hands framing his mouth so that his voice carried. 

Steve paused momentarily, looking upwards to see that they had, indeed, wandered right beneath yet another sprig that Carol had pinned in every doorway. 

Partygoers cheered before the chorus was led in a chant of, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” started by the instigator himself.

Billy reached up to pluck the fake bit of shrub from the doorway, then jut his hips forward pointedly, abdominal muscles flexing with the movement. He dangled the mistletoe above his dick.

“How’s this for a kiss?” Billy taunted, loud, tongue wagging in Steve’s direction lasciviously. 

Laughter surrounded them, immediate and warm, but in the din that resulted, Billy was unusually quiet. Kept looking to him like Steve hadn’t ever been told to suck another guy’s dick as a joke. Steve was intrigued. 

“Hey,” Steve murmured to get his attention. “You good?” 

“Fine,” Billy lied, face and upper chest flushed with more than just the alcohol he’d imbibed. 

Steve bobbed his head; knew better than to press it. 

“I wanna step outside, get some air. You wanna join?” 

“You got a joint?” 

Steve grinned in answer and saw it reflected on Billy’s face. 

–

More than halfway through their clandestine smoke at the side of Carol’s house, Billy settled back into himself, and their talks continued. Steve thought it impressive that Billy could change gears the way he did, so he said as much.

Billy shrugged a shoulder while he exhaled a thick cloud of smoke.

“Nothin’ to it, Harrington. Just a lot of pretending.” 

“Pretending to be a grade-A asshole?” he clarified, and Billy grinned. Curiously, it warmed Steve despite the cold.

“A little pretending.” 

Steve laughed aloud, his broad grin guileless. He leaned his head against the bricks and looked at Billy who was already looking at him. Billy did that frequently, he was beginning to realize.

Always when he thought Steve wasn’t looking, but Billy’s gaze never rested easy. It was a weight Steve could feel in its intensity; a unique depth that he used to think came from a place of hatred, but more and more as of late, he wondered.

“You pretending now?” 

Billy’s features smoothed out in surprise, leaving his face vacant, unguarded, for a moment. He took a short pull on their shared joint, perhaps to stall, then offered it back to Steve who took it, but not without their fingers touching in the process.

Steve glanced down to allow Billy a moment to process without eyes on him, and took that time to smoke. 

“Do I need to?” 

The ‘with you’ was implied.

Steve tapped the joint against the bricks to put out the embers, then flicked the remnants into the aluminum trash bin. He looked back over at Billy, noticed how he shivered. He reached out to tug the ends of his shirt closed.

“You wanna go back inside? It’s, like–…” Steve trailed off when he saw how Billy swayed closer to him, just enough to be noticeable. 

When Billy didn’t say anything at all, Steve watched his face closely when he moved to press a palm to his chest. Whether the resultant intake of breath was from his cold fingers or from the contact itself, Steve didn’t know, but it made him want to touch him again to find out. 

Billy almost _shook_ beneath his fingertips that rested against his skin. The effect was heady, but Billy’s silence concerned him. He removed his fingers from chilled skin, started to apologize, then–

“Don’t,” Billy said in barely a whisper, hand flying to catch Steve’s before he could entirely withdraw it. He brought his hand back to his skin, his hand pressed over Steve’s lightly, his touch tentative. 

He parted his fingers so that Billy’s slotted through his, and he moved their joined hands down the length of his torso where his open shirt allowed for it. He dragged them back up and inside his shirt, and when their fingers brushed Billy’s nipple, made hard by the cold, Billy gasped, his reddened lips remaining parted afterwards. 

“Billy,” Steve murmured, breathless and breathy all at once. He stepped closer, curled his fingers to drag his neat nails over his skin. 

Immediately, Billy reached up to grasp the back of Steve’s sweater, holding onto him to keep him near, and, Steve suspected, to keep himself upright. He stared at Steve in a mixture of disbelief and awe, his breath coming hard enough to be heard and seen in the cold. 

Steve looked at him for a moment, taking in the sight of Billy flushed and rendered soft through some miracle. They were close enough now that their fogged breath intermingled, and Billy kept dropping his eyes to Steve’s mouth. 

It was the most open he’d ever seen Billy Hargrove. Even knowing that, however, Steve could tell that something was preventing him from taking what he wanted. What Steve was beginning to want himself.

“Come with me,” Steve said, moving to lead him by the hand to the pool house in Carol’s backyard. He opened the door, ushered Billy inside, and closed the door behind them in quick succession so that he could again turn his attention to where he wanted it to be. 

“Are you–” Okay? Alright with this? 

Billy nodded once, and Steve smiled, moving closer to the boy whose face was illuminated by moonlight shining through the window. 

“So quiet, Hargrove,” Steve teased, ducking his head to lick the lobe of Billy’s ear. He caught the spike earring between his teeth to tug it softly, and the sharp, shuddered sigh accompanied with the arch of Billy’s back made him grasp at his hips. “Fuck, you’re sensitive.” 

Billy tensed at his words, and Steve removed his hands from his person entirely. He drew back to look at him, taking in his pinched brow and the tension in his jaw. 

“Sorry. Is that– listen, I know we’ve had a little to drink, but I wouldn’t–” 

“It’s not _that_ ,” Billy interrupted, voice tight. “You’re alright. More than alright,” Billy corrected, adding a frustrated but hushed “ _jesus_ ” beneath his breath. “You fuck me up, and I–. I _haven’t_ , okay.”

“Oh,” Steve said with an easygoing smile and a significant amount of relief, nodding to indicate his understanding. “I’ve never– with another guy, I mean. It’s fine.” 

Steve made to move like he wanted to lean back him, but Billy stayed him with a hand against his chest to catch his attention again. 

“ _Ever._ ” Billy clarified, and the two syllables sounded drawn, like admitting as much cost Billy dearly. 

“ _Oh._ ” 

They looked at each other then, Steve stunned, and Billy strained. 

“But you–” Steve stopped short when Billy scoffed and made to pull away from him. He pulled him close, arms sliding around his waist. The contact seemed to mollify him for now. “I don’t mean it in, like, a _bad_ way. You just look...” 

“Experienced?” Billy shrugged and looked wayside. “I’m not. I’ve kissed– I’ve kissed _girls_ , but I want–…”

Steve couldn’t help the smile that grew, anticipation and giddiness tangling together heavily in his chest. 

“Yeah?” he asked, leaning close to dot small kisses along his defined jaw, working from the far side and inching towards his mouth that pulled a quiet sigh from Billy. Steve moved slow, careful, to give him every opportunity to say no. 

Feeling the tension bleed from the notoriously touchy boy in his arms under such slight affection made Steve hot all over, knowing he did that for Billy. 

“You,” Billy gasped, made honest when Steve sucked a kiss onto his neck just beneath his jaw. He clutched Steve’s shirt, nearly buckling when teeth close around his flesh. He released a low moan, throat clicking on a thick swallow afterwards. “Fuck, it’s– it feels–” He breathed, like he couldn’t quite believe this was happening at all. 

“Good,” Steve slid his hands up the back of Billy’s loose shirt, taking in the sensation of soft skin and the curious newness of firm muscle instead of curves. “It’s good, Billy.” 

The sound of his name made Billy cuss, hands tugging at Steve to get closer, wanting so much but clearly unsure of how to ask with words. He pushed closer to Steve, pressing him back until he was against the door. Now pressed together at every point of contact, Steve could feel Billy, hard, hot, and thick against his hip. His own cock gave a hard kick in reply. 

Steve pressed his hips forward, rocking against Billy’s in search of friction, and was quickly rendered breathless at the sight of Billy’s eyelashes fluttering as his eyes closed, his mouth parted in shocked bliss. 

Watching Billy’s face and each expression of pleasure that crossed it, Steve moved to grind against him, finding the necessary resistance he needed when he was pressed and _held_ to the door by his body weight. The sensation of Billy permitting himself to rut back against him, his movements minute and careful, made Steve give a small moan, and a muttered, “yeah, like that” that emboldened him to move harder.

They stood together, breathing in the other’s air, Steve’s hands on hips to pull harder, or periodically shift to find an even better angle that would make Billy shake for it. The more Billy responded, the more Steve found that he wanted to make him respond – wanted to hear all his gasps and moans, wanted to see him receive pleasure. 

Steve wanted to give it all to him.

The recognition caused him to slow, and he paused entirely when he saw tension appear briefly in Billy’s blue eyes like he doubted suddenly that Steve wanted this. Steve gave him a boyish smile, then pressed a kiss to his cheek to soothe it away, rolling his hips languorously to reassure him that he was very much interested. Billy squirmed restlessly against Steve’s thigh that had slotted between his own, hands lifting to touch, to take. Then, seemingly changing his mind, lowered them again.

“You can touch me,” Steve offered in a whisper against Billy’s ear, tongue teasing the outer shell. “I want you to touch me.” Steve nipped the flesh just to hear the sharp intake of breath that he knew would come. “Please touch me.” 

Billy gripped the ends of Steve’s sweater and yanked it up and up higher still. Steve belatedly realized his intentions and lifted his arms to let him take it off entirely.

Billy stopped to stare, and Steve stilled to allow him to look his fill.

There was a moment’s hesitation before Billy pressed his palms to Steve’s chest, his eyes following everywhere his hands roamed. Contrary to Billy’s abrasive public image, he was positively gentle in his exploration of Steve’s body. Fingertips passed over his pectorals and through the coarse smattering of hair between, dipped down to the feel how his waist tapered towards his hips. 

Steve recognized the look on his face – laid before a feast, he couldn’t decide what to taste first. It made his pulse race, and he found that he too didn’t quite know what he wanted to experience with Billy first. 

So, he started with one of the first things he noticed about Billy when he finally _noticed_ Billy.

He grabbed his ass to haul him closer, fingers digging into the meat through skin-tight denim.

Billy’s hips slammed against Steve’s, and he moaned shakily against his throat. After mindless rutting for several moments, breaths painting Steve’s flesh, Billy bit him, sucking shamelessly. Steve tipped his head to the side to wordlessly encourage more, gasping at the long-forgotten sensation of receiving a hickey. 

Found that he loved how eager Billy was to leave yet another mark on Steve’s body.

“Goddamn vampire,” Steve teased when Billy finally let up, but he was throbbing from the attention, “Usually people ask me out before they stake their claim.”

“Go out with me,” Billy replied immediately, eyes half-mast, and lips glistening in such a way that made saliva pool beneath Steve’s tongue. “Steve,” Billy gasped when one of Steve’s hands found its way down the back of Billy’s pants and beneath briefs to cup his bare ass cheek to squeeze it. 

“Yeah,” Steve answered, watching Billy grind his dick against his thigh. “Fuck yeah.” 

Billy leaned in closer to Steve, his thick arms resting over his shoulders so that he could bury his hands in his artfully styled hair. Needless to say, he wasn’t mad about it, not with how he tugged just a little to make a shiver race down his spine. Not with how Billy looked so close to falling apart because Steve agreed to date him. 

“Will you–” Billy panted, breaking off into an unexpected moan when Steve’s thumb brushed the crevice of his ass. “Steve–” 

“Whatever you want,” Steve promised, his own pleasure mounting the harder and louder Billy breathed.

Billy pressed his mouth to Steve’s, and here was the experienced person he had anticipated at the start. Their lips slid together, and, god– Steve felt as though he could come from this alone. Billy’s mouth was soft, plush, and he fucking kissed like the king he was. When Billy licked his bottom lip, testing his limits, Steve flicked his tongue just inside Billy’s mouth.

The give and take was immediate, the two finding and adapting to the other’s style with relish. Billy, unsurprisingly, used his tongue – and used it well – while Steve liked to suck Billy’s thick bottom lip between his teeth to worry. 

They parted, and Billy’s mouth immediately descended over Steve’s jaw and down his neck, sucking and biting kisses as he went as though he couldn’t not taste him.

“ _Billy,_ ” Steve cried at a particularly harsh bite, nails digging into Billy’s ass, his other hand flying to grasp at his shirt. 

Billy’s hips stuttered, he moaned aloud, and Steve felt wet heat seep from Billy’s jeans and through his own. Aroused and amazed, Steve pulled his hand from Billy’s pants to reach around to feel the spreading wet spot, to trace the length of his hardness for himself. 

Billy emitted a sharp hiss at the unexpected contact, but he arched into it, eyelashes fluttering, and mouth upturned for Steve’s kiss.

Helpless, Steve kissed him. Licked into his mouth, groaned into it when Billy shifted to press his thigh against Steve the way he had done for him, and rocked against him, almost manic with how he chased his own orgasm after Billy’s sinfully sexy display. 

Against Billy’s parted lips, Steve whispered, “Wanna taste you.”

Billy reached inside his pants, then removed his hand to hold two fingers slick with his own come to Steve’s mouth. Steve stared into Billy’s eyes as he licked them – enough for a small taste. 

The raw adoration on Billy’s face, however, coaxed him into taking them into his mouth to suck and lick them clean. He groaned around them when Billy cupped him through his pants, squeezing just enough, and–

Steve quaked through his orgasm, head falling back on a deeply-felt moan while his cock wept in his jeans. Teeth nipped at his flesh, and Steve felt his cock pulse weakly, interested but spent. 

He took a moment to catch his breath, pressing absent but no-less fond kisses to Billy's mouth while he recovered from the aftershocks. When Steve opened his eyes again, he saw Billy smiling, wide and positively wolfish.

“When can we do that again?”


End file.
